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Farewell, farewell,
Tomorrow I depart.
I’ve sewn myself a pack
And had my hair cut off.
I’ve got myself a belt
That’s tethered to my chains,
Said good-bye to all my neighbors
Through the wall that…
You strangers with the broad, thick-veined hands,
Crooked legs and faces hard as leather,
Smelling of sea and tar
And of the rust of thick anchor chains;
Oh, you, strangers to all nations and tongues…